


Limits

by darkmoonhye



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Smut, Vanilla, implicit trust issues, really there's a lot of softness, they really really love each other and that's all there is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:22:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28385463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkmoonhye/pseuds/darkmoonhye
Summary: Jungeun thinks it’s something in the way Jinsol talks, all slow and methodical like she means every word. Something in the quizzical line of her brow when she’s focused on the little things, or the shine of her eyes when she’s looking back at Jungeun. The line of her jaw, sloping so nicely when she smiles. It’s the way Jinsol’s hand finds the small of her back, not quite leading, a show of support. A subtle reminder, I’m here always.These are the ways that Jungeun knows she loves Jinsol, because all these things - they’re ways Jinsol loves her, too.//LipSoul's first time sleeping together, with all the necessary feelings-related trimmings.
Relationships: Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul/Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip
Comments: 2
Kudos: 154





	Limits

**Author's Note:**

> please. if you are a minor, do not wish to read smut, or would otherwise be harmed or upset by sexual content please turn back now! this is mild insofar as smut is concerned, but it is still ultimately a work centred around such content. 
> 
> do also be aware that there are a lot of trust/emotional baggage themes throughout... the lipsoul relationship itself is healthy, but there are extenuating, implicit factors that may make this work a little bit more touchy for those of you with past trauma.
> 
> with that out of the way, i do hope you enjoy reading.

Jungeun thinks it’s something in the way Jinsol talks, all slow and methodical like she means every word. Something in the quizzical line of her brow when she’s focused on the little things, or the shine of her eyes when she’s looking back at Jungeun. The line of her jaw, sloping so nicely when she smiles. It’s the way Jinsol’s hand finds the small of her back, not quite leading, a show of support. A subtle reminder,  _ I’m here always. _

These are the ways that Jungeun knows she loves Jinsol, because all these things - they’re ways Jinsol loves her, too.

They haven’t been together long. Really, everything should have happened much sooner, and maybe it would have if their communication had been better earlier on, or if one of them had been a bit braver. But Jungeun can’t allow for beating herself up over lost time when the way she and Jinsol ended up finding each other felt perfect in its own particular way. The universe has its own sense of timing, after all. 

When Jungeun’s hand loops around Jinsol’s wrist, leading her towards a photo booth at the back of the ageing, mostly-empty arcade they’re in, it feels like the first time she’s ever been in love. It’s not, of course. But it feels like what she heard, as a child, it’s supposed to. No pain, or fear. Just boundless, storybook joy. It’s all written in the ways she can feel Jinsol’s pulse, mirrored with her own giddy heart. 

Jungeun leads Jinsol in, but Jinsol leads her down. She settles delicately in Jinsol’s lap just as the camera starts to click away. It’s not demeaning, nor controlling. All Jungeun feels is safe and appreciated, equal in all the ways she should be. Jungeun isn’t a trophy, and Jinsol isn’t some kind of divine hero sent to sweep her off her feet. Not quite like the stories, but close. Better.

Eyes locked on each other, the world forgotten, they meet each other halfway. There’s no sense of urgency in the kiss. Just a brush of mouths, so chaste it wouldn’t matter if the whole world were to witness it. The camera keeps on with its periodic clicking even as Jungeun reaches down to cup Jinsol’s jaw, and just that easy, Jinsol yields. Her lips flutter open, and Jungeun’s tongue flickers in, just barely brushing through the warmth of Jinsol’s mouth before she’s gone again.

Jungeun pulls back, feeling the heat surging across her face, up her ears, down her neck, and beyond. Jinsol tilts her forehead down until it’s resting against Jungeun’s collarbone, her breathing just a touch too heavy for the circumstances. There’s not much to be worked up over, but the undercurrent of  _ potential _ keeps anticipation bubbling to the surface.

“I said I wanted to go out to eat afterwards, but…” Jinsol begins, slow and stilted against Jungeun’s shoulder. There’s the gentlest flutter of eyelashes against skin. She doesn’t need to finish her sentence, knowing that Jungeun can tell just what she’s thinking by her awkward hesitance and the slight clammy feeling of Jinsol’s skin.

“Do you want to head back to mine and just order in?” Jungeun supplies. 

Jinsol lets out a contented hum, and that’s all Jungeun needs to drag both of them to their feet. It’s awkward because Jinsol is taller, and heavier, and not fully willing to be moved from the lazy comfort of just cuddling in the booth, but she manages. When Jinsol is finally standing fully on her own two feet, Jungeun stands on tiptoe to reward her with the slightest peck. No funny business.

That’s all the encouragement Jinsol needs. A second later, she’s back to playing the part of the dutiful girlfriend. They take a look at their photo strips as the automated machines count up their sparse array of tickets - there’s really not much to see, tragically, since Jungeun’s hair all but obscures the both of them from view. But Jinsol finds it funny, teasing her for the verifiable lion’s mane she possesses, and that’s good enough for the both of them. 

As long as Jinsol is smiling, Jungeun will always be happy.

And as Jinsol turns in their ticket receipt - just enough for the tiniest little elephant plushie on the face of the earth - and presents the reward to Jungeun, she knows that feeling goes both ways, too.

The train ride home is a bit quiet. Jungeun grips onto Jinsol’s arm with one hand, fiddles aimlessly with Ellie the Elephant’s ears with the other. Jinsol stares at her with that calm, soothing gaze. Usually, it sets Jungeun at ease, but right now it sets her on fire instead. The blush is starting to return, now blanketing Jungeun’s shoulders and chest with its warmth. Jinsol’s free hand settles gently on her thigh.

She’s glad for the quiet. If she were to talk, Jungeun thinks her voice would come out half a whimper. There’s no reason for it, except for all the implicit feelings, and for the  _ reason _ they’re already headed back to hers.

A while later, when Jungeun unlocks the door to her apartment, she does her best to go through the motions. Jinsol knows the place like the back of her hand, and they’re past the point of acting overly formal, so there’s no need for Jungeun to be offering Jinsol a glass of water as if this is all new to them. 

Jinsol takes the glass anyways and downs it without hesitation. She thinks for a moment and then proceeds. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.” And there’s her stare again, eyes as big and sweet as the plushie sitting on the counter right next to them. 

“I want to,” Jungeun reassures, a bit too quick, as her hands fiddle with nothing. Jinsol takes both of them in her grasp, smoothing her thumbs down across Jungeun’s knuckles. “I’m just. Nervous.”

Jinsol nods, speaks deliberately. “I am too.”

It’s a relief and a surprise, all in one. Jungeun lets out a shaky breath. She tugs on Jinsol’s hands, drawing them around herself until she’s wrapped safely in her girlfriend’s arms. They stay like that for a bit, with Jungeun’s mouth pressed against the long line of Jinsol’s neck, feeling the heavy pulse there.

Different, yet equal. Jungeun feels safe. If she didn’t, she’d never admit those insecurities or fears. Here Jinsol is, meeting her halfway, like always. In so many ways, this would all be easier if this were her first time. In love, in trust, in sex. Yet there are so many things Jungeun is glad she knows now, so that she can appreciate when it’s  _ right _ all the more.

Jungeun is the one to lead them into her room, and she’s the one to pull Jinsol’s shirt up and off. She folds it with great care, even when the slope of Jinsol’s eyebrows, the tilt of her jaw, the sparkle in her eyes tells her that it’s a bit ridiculous. Jinsol says nothing though - the time for teasing will be later, for now, this is what Jungeun needs. By taking her time like this, even on something so asinine, she knows she won’t be able to soon forget the sight of Jinsol’s body.

Not a single detail will be forgotten, from the sharp curve of ribs into waist into hips, to the swell of Jinsol’s ass as Jungeun peels her girlfriend’s damp underwear down her legs, to the subtle sight and smell of Jinsol glistening against her thighs.

When Jungeun’s finally done undressing her, Jinsol settles down on the bed and pulls Jungeun into her lap. They kiss just like at the arcade, without a care in the world, as if Jinsol isn’t entirely naked and clearly  _ wanting _ in so many ways. Jungeun doesn’t pull away after her tongue drags against Jinsol’s own, this time. She tilts her head and lets Jinsol kiss her back, deeper than Jungeun’s ever allowed.

It’s only when she whimpers that Jinsol breaks the kiss. Her eyes are dark. On anyone else, Jungeun would think of some kind of predator, of people that have inflicted pain and wounds not-quite healed. But it’s Jinsol, and all Jungeun can think of is the dopey stuffed elephant and a woman who would give her the world, but only if Jungeun asked for it.

“Can I undress you?” The question should seem silly. Jinsol is naked, for fucks’ sake. But it’s necessary, and so Jungeun nods. Even so, Jinsol stares at her for a few seconds longer, as though truly making sure that there’s no discomfort in Jungeun’s expression. “The second you’re not quite sure about something, tell me. Your comfort is more important than anything else.” 

“Okay, I promise.” 

That’s all it takes.

Jinsol presses a soft, fleeting kiss to Jungeun’s shoulder, elegant fingers brushing underneath the hem of the fabric to pool the shirt off, exposing skin as she goes. She’s deft in her movements, unbuttoning at a barely-noticeable speed, but with all the gentleness and care that colours every one of Jinsol’s interactions with her. 

For that reason, Jinsol takes a moment to lean back for a second and fold up Jungeun’s shirt, too. It’s a bit sloppy, but the thought is enough. “I love you.” It’s not the first time that’s been said, either, but it’s the first in this kind of context. Jinsol deserves to know that all her efforts are noticed and appreciated. Jinsol deserves to know that every time Jungeun’s heart is at peace these days, it’s because of her.

The dopey smile she gets in return is what causes Jungeun’s stomach to swoop. Bolstered by the confession, it’s a mere matter of Jinsol hooking a finger underneath the wire of Jungeun’s bra to pull it up and out of the way. She glances up, hesitating for just a moment as her mouth descends. Jungeun flushes at the sight of Jinsol’s lips the barest distance away from her chest. Some instinct tells her to lean away, create distance. But there’s her girlfriend’s hand, pressed against the small of her back, keeping her there. Safe.

Jungeun gives a nod, and then Jinsol sets to work. Closed mouth kisses, at first. Not much in the way of sensation, but still enough to make Jungeun feel lightheaded.  _ More _ . Jinsol’s an expert in reading her every desire. Knows when to completely unclasp and set Jungeun’s bra aside, knows how to dive back in with an open mouth to softly lick at and suckle her girlfriend’s skin. Jinsol’s free hand splits its time between gently brushing against Jungeun’s opposite breast and flitting up to thread through her hair and along the back of her neck reassuringly. 

Everything feels warm, even when Jinsol switches sides, leaving Jungeun’s saliva-covered nipple to cool in the air. There’s the barest graze of teeth. Jungeun doesn’t mean to, but she whines loudly enough for Jinsol to pull back entirely, quick as lightning. There’s alarm written all over her face until she sees just how red Jungeun is. 

“S-sorry.” Jungeun manages to stutter out, mind coated with the haze of pleasure. She tries to shift just a bit to get comfortable, but feels only hot, wet slick - both between her own legs and streaked against her thigh where it’s been pressed against Jinsol. The sensation doesn’t help her get her breath back.

Jinsol seems to understand even that, and scoots back further onto the bed with Jungeun until they’re lying side by side. “Take a second for me.”

It would be embarrassing if Jungeun had to ask for a moment to relax a little. But with Jinsol asking like that - like it’s something that  _ she  _ wants and needs, it’s all too easy to comply. There are a few minutes where Jungeun just stares at her ceiling and breathes herself through the moment, walking herself back from the point of being completely overwhelmed.

That’s the thing about Jinsol. Sometimes she knows what Jungeun is feeling before she even does. Jinsol is patient and kind, and all the things that love is. All the cliches are true, and it’s taken until now for her to realize, all thanks to this woman spooned into her side, fingers interlocked with hers, not expecting or wanting anything except for what Jungeun can give. 

“I’m okay.” Her voice is steadier. She’s still… terribly pent up, it’s hard not to be when she can feel every inch of Jinsol against her side. There’s been no anticipation lost, at all, but everything feels clearer. She feels more in control of her own mind. 

Still, Jinsol is nothing if not a gentlewoman. “You sure? We can just cuddle.”

Jungeun lets her head flop to the side, the unruly mess of her hair practically covering her entire face. It maybe lessens the impact of her glare-and-pout combo. “I’m so wet that if you don’t touch me, I may just have to kick you out and spend the rest of the night humping my hand.” 

That seems to both reassure and embarrass Jinsol, if the strange little bubbly sound she makes and the way her eyes dart up and away are any indications. It summons up a ridiculous too-loud bark of laughter from Jungeun, and before she knows it, Jinsol is straddling her with her brows so knitted up she can practically see the gears in the older woman’s head turning frantically. 

“You can’t just say that!” Jinsol insists, but Jungeun can feel the slick pressed against her stomach. Her hands find Jinsol’s hips and push just a bit, the pressure causing Jinsol to moan in earnest. “Jungeun!”

Maybe she likes being in control from time to time. So sue her. “You want me to stop?”

Jinsol goes a bit quiet and sullen, the role reversal astoundingly effective. “No.”

Still, Jungeun likes the usual dynamic a bit better - and it feels fairer to both Jinsol and herself to do this on familiar footing. “Then, please. I want you. I need you.”

That’s all it takes, the playfulness gone and shelved. Destined for another time, another place. Jinsol stares down at her, the true depths of tenderness returning as steadily as a flood. The love surges back through Jungeun’s chest as Jinsol simply nods and pulls herself further down Jungeun’s body. Dutiful to a fault.

There’s no more hesitation in the way Jinsol snaps Jungeun’s shorts open and pulls them down her legs alongside her underwear in one fluid motion. No insecurity to feel when Jinsol looks at her laid bare like she hung the stars. A kiss on her hip bone and a hand lifting one thigh acts as a final question, the  _ are you sure _ behind Jinsol’s eyes answered so surely by Jungeun begging,

“Please.”

She’s never felt anything quite as warm and comforting as Jinsol’s tongue. Jungeun doesn’t know how it’s possible that Jinsol’s mouth feels so damn  _ hot _ against her cunt when she already feels on fire, but if their relationship has taught her anything, it’s that sometimes unexpected things are the greatest gift of all. 

There’s so much of Jinsol that Jungeun feels. Her nails, short and blunt, holding Jungeun’s thighs down as she squirms. Her breath, warm against Jungeun’s stomach when she pauses for a moment to breathe. Her fingertips, circling Jungeun’s clit with purpose. Her teeth, periodically nipping carefully against the skin of Jungeun’s pelvis even as Jinsol’s hand moves from Jungeun’s thigh to tease at her entrance. 

It’s one thing to feel that she’s wet, it’s another to see herself completely covering Jinsol’s mouth and fingers. Bashful doesn’t begin to describe just how Jungeun feels about that, knowing that these days, there are so few others that could even begin to elicit such a reaction.

She really, really does love her. 

When Jinsol crawls back up her body to kiss her before gently slipping a finger into Jungeun’s cunt, that’s the only thing on her mind. The pace and the curl of Jinsol’s index finger inside her makes her head pleasantly fuzzy. When another finger is added, and Jinsol starts pressing more instantly with her thumb against Jungeun’s clit, she thinks of all the infinite reasons why she feels these things.

Jinsol’s mouth tastes entirely like Jungeun. 

She can still feel how wet Jinsol is, gently rocking herself against Jungeun’s thigh. 

Jinsol is gently scratching against her scalp. 

Jungeun moans, and if not for Jinsol swallowing the sound, she would definitely be receiving noise complaints from the neighbours the next day. Right now though, she isn’t thinking about that, or anything else except for that warm, beautiful, hazy blanket of safety and affection and care that Jinsol drapes her in.

Jinsol quickens her pace, curls her fingers. Pulls away from Jungeun’s mouth just long enough to drawl out a hurried, “I love you,” and then it’s all simply black against white as she comes. She’s not sure if she makes a sound, her senses too overwhelmed by everything else, and Jinsol gives no indication either way except for wrapping her arms fully around Jungeun.

“Love you too,” Jungeun murmurs after some time. She’s not sure how long it takes, but Jinsol doesn’t seem to mind.

Jinsol would wait forever for her, and that’s how Jungeun knows.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! this was a different experience for me, both because of the content (vanilla AND lipsoul), and because i don't typically start and finish writing a work in one sitting between the hours of 1 and 3 am. as a result, it's mooooostly unedited, save for a once-over by a very dear friend of mine. so if you find any glaring issues - no you didn't, my sleep deprived brain is perfect. but also, let me know and my un-sleep deprived brain will fix it. cool? cool.
> 
> have a nice day.


End file.
